


Album

by ap_trash_compactor



Series: Instant Film [2]
Category: Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: F/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 01:28:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17132447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ap_trash_compactor/pseuds/ap_trash_compactor
Summary: Life unfolds in moments, like photographs. (Or: the last six months of 2018 are extremely busy for Arihnda Pryce, though mostly not in the way she would have expected. A sequel to Snapshot, written around the prompts for the Thryce Discord Advent Drabble Challenge.)





	Album

**1.) Heels:** **_Sunday November 11th, Hilton Hotel, Washington D.C., 3:15 A.M._ **

The ballroom has the faded romance that the dregs of parties bring. In a far corner, a young marine and his wife are kissing. Somewhere, a man laughs too loudly.

Arihnda sinks into her chair, slips off her red stilettos, and rubs her heel. “I can’t believe you got tickets,” she says. 

“Colonel Yularen pulled some strings,” Thrawn says, sitting across from her.

“Nice of him,” Arihnda says. “Can you call a cab?”

In answer, Thrawn pulls her foot into his lap. Pressing his thumbs into the arch, he says: “I booked a room for the weekend, if you prefer.”

  
  


**2.) Skin:** **_Saturday November 17th, Park Crescent Apartments, Washington D.C., 8:00 A.M._ **

Arihnda’s studio, all 200 square feet, feels as sad and empty as a battered shoebox most days. She has only a queen-sized air mattress on the floor, her laptop, her bags. She still hasn’t unpacked, or even used the kitchen. 

But her job is more than worth it. Thirty minutes away on the 42 bus is the White House. The West Wing.

And on mornings like this, with Thrawn in her bed, both of them half-asleep, bodies pressed together, lingering in the warm animal comfort of skin on skin, she doesn’t feel like she’s lost that much in the bargain.

  
  


**3.) Work:** **_Saturday September 22nd, Juahir Madras’ apartment, Petworth, Washington D.C., 2:00 P.M._ **

“Arihnda,” says Juahir, “ _ how  _ can you work for  _ these people?” _

“I’m lucky Thrawn introduced me to them, let alone suggested anyone ask for my resume. Being a personal assistant to Tarkin means working in the White House --”

“But for  _ this  _ President? For  _ his  _ Chief of Staff?”

“I know you disagree with them --”

“Disag -- Arihnda, did you vote for Palpatine?”

The silence after tells Arihnda and Juahir both that they won’t be roomates for much longer.

Thrawn offers to help her look for an apartment. She waves him off.

But he is the only person she invites over for a housewarming.

  
  


**_4.) Suitcase: December 21, Northville Ski Resort, Upstate New York, 9:00 PM_ **

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she says, getting out of her car, “I hit more traffic than I expected --”

“It is fine.” He is still wearing fatigues. There is a brief moment where they both freeze like deer, staring at each other. Or perhaps they are more like solitary predators, surprised by their own kind in the wild. 

It has been a little while since they have they seen each other.

Arihnda turns quickly away. “I’ll just take my bag inside --”

“Here,” he says, suddenly close beside her, reaching past her for the one suitcase she has. “I will take it.”

  
  


**5.) Hand:** **_Tuesday August 14th, The Hamilton Live, Washington D.C., 7:45 P.M._ **

“I don’t think we’ve been dat-- doing this long enough for me to meet your mother,” Arihnda says, barely loud enough to be heard over the music.

Thrawn keeps texting. “She will not think it comes with obligations on your part. She will like you.”

“Don’t you want to spend time with her alone? You said you don’t see each other often.”

“I think this will make her happier than seeing me alone,” he says distractedly.

Arihnda frowns.

He looks over: misperceives her expression in the bar’s dim light. He takes her hand. Reassuringly, he says: “She will like you.”

  
  


**6.) Unwrapping:** **_September 7th, Juahir Madras’ Apartment, Petworth, Washington D.C., 7:00 P.M._ **

“There’s a package from your mother,” Arihnda says as greeting.   
  
“Oh?” Thrawn says. “Let us open it.”   
  
Arihnda regrets it. The box contains scented oil and a beautifully carved, highly polished crystal with an obvious purpose.   
  
Thrawn opens the oil. “This smells nice,” he says casually, dabbing some onto Arihnda’s neck.   
  
“You… said she liked me,” Arihnda manages.   
  
“Yes. This is thoughtful gift.”   
  
“I… I’m not sure I’m comfortable using gifts from your mother in the bedroom.”   
  
“No?” he inquires. “Am I not a gift from my mother?”   
  
Arihnda pinches her nose. “I wish you hadn’t said that.”   
  
Thrawn laughs.

  
  


**7.) Celery:** **_Tuesday July 31st, Juahir Madras’ Apartment, Petworth, Washington D.C., 11:30 P.M._ **

“Incredible -- Kennedy Center,  _ front row -- _ ” Arihnda says as they come in the door.

“I am glad you are happy,” Thrawn says, following her. “I am starved.”

“I think we only have celery.”

He snorts. “Celery isn’t food.”

“No? Then what’s it for?”

*

He leaves the one polaroid he’s satisfied with behind for her, pinned to her empty refrigerator with a magnet. She’s posed like Audrey Hepburn from Breakfast at Tiffany’s, but she’s wearing nothing. In place of a cigarette holder, she has a stalk of celery.

Across the white edge at the bottom, Thrawn has scrawled “ _ portrait of a carnivore.” _

  
  


**8.) Stars:** **_Monday November 26th, Park Crescent Apartments, Washington D.C., 8:45 P.M._ **

“Handiwork of my nieces and nephews,” he says, glowing with pride as he hands her the home-made card he's carried with him from Quantico. Metallic gold paper, with lopsided silver-foil stars.

“Early for Christmas cards, isn’t it?”

“It is an invitation to their annual Christmas cross-country ski retreat -- my brother rents a cabin in the Catskills mid-December through the first week of January.”

“That sounds nice. You’re going?”

The glow fades slightly. “I… generally am busy. Although… I was considering it, this year.” He tilts his head, looking at her. “You would be welcome, if you wanted to join me.”

  
  


**9.) Round:** **_Monday September 24th, Near the National Mall, Washington D.C., 11:00 P.M._ **

Leaving the bar where she's told him about Juahir, Arihnda, wobbly, looks up and gasps. The moon is as full and round as a bright silver disc. Thrawn, carrying her shoes, stops beside her. 

After a moment, he says: “Just say the word, and I’ll throw a lasso around it.”

She frowns at him. “What?”

“Nothing. We could walk a while, look at it, if you like.”

She looks up again. “Yes.”

He slips an arm around her. As they walk, he starts singing idly, an old-fashioned sort of tune she doesn't recognize: “Buffalo gals won’t you come out tonight…”

  
  


**10.) Cold:** **_Monday November 26th, Park Crescent Apartments, Washington D.C., 8:45 P.M._ **

“I don’t know if it would be appropriate for me to spend Christmas with your family.”

“It needn’t be serious.” He sounds even-keeled. “They are always happy for company.”

“I… yes, your mother was… nice.”

“Thrass and Lorana are equally so.” He sets the card aside. “You need not decide now. I wanted to tell you I will be away for a few weeks. We are running a game in-theater, in Iraq --”

Arihnda feels a sudden terrible chill.

He sees it, tries to lighten the mood: “ _ I’ll be home for Chri  _ \-- No? No. It will be very secure, I promise”

 

**11.) Deep:** ** _Friday November 30th,_** **_Park Crescent Apartments, Washington D.C., 11:13 P.M._**

She’s started rolling away from him after sex. He hasn’t commented on it. He lays on his back beside her, and speaks to the ceiling.

“I am flying out tomorrow.”

“Right.”

“I can call you when we arrive. To let you know I landed safely.”

“Yes,” she says, “I’d appreciate that.”

She feels him shift beside her, turning to look at her. “Have you given any more thought to my suggestion? My invitation --”

“I haven’t decided,” she says quickly.

There is such a thing as getting in too deep, too fast -- but she wonders if maybe she’s already done that.

  
  


**12.) Celebration:** **_Monday July 9th, Marine Corps University, 7:30 A.M._ **

“You’re chipper for early morning on a grey day,” Eli says, catching up to Thrawn between the conference building and wargaming center.

“Is it grey?” Thrawn asks wryly. “I had not noticed.” Then, tunefully, he adds: “I’ve got sunshine --” and dropping back into speaking: “as the song goes.”

“Yeah,” says Eli, “figured you had a good weekend.”

“Did you?”

“Well you haven’t responded to anybody’s emails since Friday. That was kind of a clue.”

Thrawn laughs again. “No, I did not even check my phone.”

“So, gonna see her again?”

“Oh, yes,” says Thrawn. “Yes, I very much intend to.”

  
  
  


**13.) Soft:** **_Saturday November 17th, Park Crescent Apartments, Washington D.C., 10:00 A.M._ **

They are still lazing in the bed, close together.

“What do you think?” Thrawn asks, turning his phone so Arihnda can see an oversized unicorn plush

“For… what?” Arihnda asks, confused.

“My niece,” he says. “She is twelve. I would get her a book about the tapestries at the Cloisters, but she struggles with reading. I could not find anything good at the appropriate level.”

Twelve… middle school, Arihnda thinks. “What grade level does she read at?”

“Fourth grade,” he says, turning the phone back to himself, frowning thoughtfully.

After a moment, Arihnda says: “I think that’s a good gift.” 

  
  


**14.) Finally:** **_Monday December 3rd, Office of White House Chief of Staff Willhuff Tarkin, 11:30 P.M. (7:30 A.M. December 6th, Baghdad)_ **

An unknown number pops up on Arihnda’s private cell. She gives it a few rings, but answers -- something she’d only ever done before when job-hunting.

“Hello?” It’s Thrawn’s voice. Warped by the satellite phone he’s calling from, by the distance, maybe by her own anxiety, but -- 

“Hello,” she breathes back. “Hello. I’m glad you called.”

“I promised I would.”

“I know, just -- later than I thought. Can you call again? Let me know… you know”

There is a little pause. “I can call every day, if you would like.”

“Please,” she says. “And I promise I’m still thinking about Christmas.”

  
  


**15.) Captivity:** **_Tuesday December 18th, Office of White House Chief of Staff Willhuff Tarkin, 10:30 A.M. (6:30 P.M., Baghdad)_ **

“Are you certain?” Thrawn asks. “You will not have to stay the entire time if you do not want, we will not be imprisoning you --”

“I’m sure,” she says, though she can’t keep the anxiety out of her voice. “I just have to get permission from Tarkin for the time --”

“If you are uncomfortable --”

“I’m not, I’m excited --” she hears the false note in her own voice, knows he hears it too. She coughs. “I mean, I know I’m not obligated. I don’t feel trapped.”

There is a pause. “You are certain?”

“Yes, I’m certain. I’ll see you at Christmas.”

  
  


**16.) Feet:** **_December 21, Northville Ski Resort, Upstate New York, 9:05 P.M._ **

As soon as Thrawn opens the door of the cabin, there’s a stampede of tiny feet. 

A moment later, Thrawn is swamped by five tiny bodies, shouting in five shrill voices, and is lost to Arihnda.

Arihnda hangs back, on the snowy step, until a soft-edged woman with a kind smile -- Lorana, she assumes -- pushes through the doorway to collect her, followed closely by a man Arihnda recognizes at once as Thrawn’s half-brother: Theodore Richard Andrew Safis.

Thrass takes her hand. “Lovely to meet you Rinna -- or is that just something Thrawn says? Do you prefer Arihnda? Please come in.”

  
  


**17.) Kiss:** **_December 21, Northville Ski Resort, Upstate New York, 11:30 P.M._ **

He is not quite looking at her when he finally puts her suitcase in their room, and she closes the door behind them. When he talks, it is as if he is uncertain how much she wants to be there, or if she wants to be there with him. “I trust you do not mind our being in the same room --”

“Of course I don’t,” she says. With a determined step, she crosses the room, and takes his face in her hands. “I’m glad I’m here.”

“Are you?” he asks.

In answer, she rises onto her toes and kisses him.   
  


 

**18.) Crab:** **_Wednesday August 15th, The Round Robin, Washington D.C., 6:45 P.M._ **

Thrawn’s mother is as tall as her son, with the same otherworldly grace. She wears a shimmering caftan, somehow more elegant than dated. Her hair falls down her back like a sheet of white gold. 

When she and Thrawn embrace, they look like they belong together in a way mundane people could never understand.

Then Thrawn pulls back, and gestures towards Arihnda, who feels acutely awkward.

“Ah, finally!” his mother exclaims, stepping forward and putting her hands on Arihnda’s shoulders. “Scorpio? You look like you sting. My son could use it. I’m a Cancer. We’ll get to know each other.”

  
  


**19.) Thorns:** **_December 22nd, Northville Ski Resort, Upstate New York, 1:30 PM_ **

“I’m glad you’re here,” Lorana says when they’re alone. “It’s so nice to see him -- you know.”

Arihnda tries to smile. “He said he didn’t usually come.”

“I think it’s hard for him to come alone. He loves us, but I think we make him feel lonely. The last time --” Lorana tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “There was someone, but she didn’t -- It wasn’t easy for him.”

Arihnda frowns. “He didn’t say.”

“Maris. It was an awkward situation. She was with someone else. He thought he might persuade her to -- we don’t like to talk about it.”

  
  


**20.) Embers:** **_Tuesday December 18th, Office of White House Chief of Staff Willhuff Tarkin, 8:30 A.M. (4:30 P.M., Baghdad)_ **

Arihnda can’t talk to Juahir anymore. And she doesn’t have the right friends at work.

So she stews over Thrawn’s invitation alone.

It’s a lot, for knowing each other only six months. But… He had said it didn’t need to be serious. Maybe it’s like meeting his mother: just wanting company, wanting to show his family… 

Show them he isn’t alone.

Her heart twists. There’s a heat inside of her like the ghost of a fire.

In the back of her mind, she can hear him gently crooning:  _ I’ll be home...  _

She knows what she’ll say when he calls later.

  
  


**21.) High:** **_Wednesday August 15th, The Round Robin, Washington D.C., 6:45 P.M._ **

Thrawn’s mother has a way of swirling the conversation around the table so quickly and continuously Arihnda feels almost dizzy, like the one time she’d taken something illegal with Juahir.

But she learns things about Thrawn and his family.

She learns Thrawn has a younger half-brother, nicknamed Thrass, raised in England by his father; Thrawn’s mother’s life is as wild and peripatetic as she herself is eccentric; Thrass’ wife was a novitiate in a religious order before meeting her husband; Thrass and Lorana work for the U.N. and have five perfect children -- 

And Arihnda doesn't exactly dislike Thrawn’s mother.

  
  


**22.) Stairs:** **_Saturday July 28th, National Mall, Washington D.C., 3:00 PM_ **

“This is a tourist pose --”

“It is fun,” Thrawn says. And to the passer-by who has been pressed into service, Thrawn says: “Any time.”

The picture isn’t as good as either of them could have taken. They are standing together on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. Arihnda is smiling stiffly at the camera. Thrawn has an arm around her, and is smiling quite genuinely.

“Don’t we have enough photos of us by now?” she asks unselfconsciously, peering over his shoulder

“Not at all,” he says, equally unselfconscious. Then he looks at her, his smile turning sly. “You said ‘we.’”

  
  


**23.) Loud:** **_Monday, December 24th, Northville Ski Resort, Upstate New York, 12:45 PM_ **

There’s another bout of shrieking, something that both Lorana and Thrass are needed to resolve. In the kitchen, Arihnda tries to bury her mind in the potatoes she’s mashing. Beside her, crimping the edge of a pie crust, Thrawn laughs softly.

“That doesn’t bother you?” she hisses.

“What? No, not at all,” he says, turning his attention from the distant noises of his brother’s family to Arihnda. “I enjoy it.”

“Do you?” Arihnda asks, tilting her head.

“Mostly, yes.”

“Do you… want that for yourself, someday?”

He holds her gaze. “Yes. Some days, I think I do,” he says finally.

  
  


**24.) Bow: _Monday, December 24th, Northville Ski Resort, Upstate New York, 11:55 PM_**

Thrawn takes charge of placing the presents under the tree, and surveys his work critically.

“I’m sure they’ll love it,” says Arihnda.

“There is one more for myself.” He fishes in his pocket. He does something she can’t see: pauses, turns.

In his hand is a velvet box. In it: a small gold ring, twisted like a bow.

“This is not a proposal,” he clarifies quickly. “This is only contingent on your thinking you may wish to return here next year --”

Hurriedly, as if to silence him, she covers the box with both hands. 

“Of course I do," she says.  



End file.
